


welcome home

by d_e_s



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, inFAMOUS: Second Son
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, honestly this is just something fluffy to start the new year out right, they even kiss in it which isn't something that I often write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 12:51:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13236114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_e_s/pseuds/d_e_s
Summary: it's a well-known fact that conduits heal quickly. however, fast healing doesn't mean that they don't feel the impact of their injuries, and for once, desmond is around to see just how chaotic delsin's life can be. good thing he's experienced in chaos.





	welcome home

There was power in absence. It was a quiet sort of discomfort that hummed just below the skin like an itch that couldn’t quite be scratched, or an anxiety that couldn’t quite be soothed. Desmond had experienced it a few times in his life. The most notable had been after Lucy had died, though, and he’d been forced to deal with her ghost. When he’d turned around to tell her something--a joke he thought she’d like, a thought he’d had that he’d felt was worth sharing--only to realize that she wasn’t there, and she wasn’t coming back, all while the feeling of her blood on his hands forced him to remember that  _ he _ was the reason she wasn’t coming back. It was a bitch of a feeling, one that constricted his chest and tightened his chest until he feared his ribs would splinter and break in his chest, and it was something that he’d hoped to never feel again.

It had been a foolish and naive hope.

As soon as Delsin walked through the door without so much as a hello, the very feeling Desmond so feared crashed back into his chest. Delsin was a spot of sunshine in an otherwise dark world for Desmond; he was always so full of life even during the hardest moments, so for Delsin to make such a quiet entrance, something had to be wrong. It wasn’t as though Desmond was around enough for him to routinely visit--even though he’d been staying for a few days, it had yet to stop Delsin from greeting him with a mixture of blatant enthusiasm and quiet relief that Desmond hadn’t packed up and left like he was so prone to doing.

With a grunt, Desmond forced himself to roll out of bed and stumble to his feet, his body momentarily not his as blackness threatened to engulf his vision. It was from getting up too fast, but it did little to ease the anxiety Desmond was already feeling. His heartbeat stuttered as he prayed that it wasn’t going to turn into an Episode, and the relief that he felt when the moment passed was unmeasurable. There was too much going on right now for him to get sucked into Bleeding Effect hell, and even if there wasn’t, the last thing he wanted to do was spiral when he was visiting Delsin. This had become something of a safe place for him, a place where he could come and just be Desmond instead of Subject Seventeen, and he wasn’t certain what he would do if he lost it. There was a lot that he still hadn’t told Delsin about...and a lot that he didn’t  _ want _ to tell Delsin about.

With quiet steps, Desmond made his way down the hallway, amber hues flashing in an attempt to figure out what was wrong. Anxiety had tightened his chest and heightened his senses, making him aware of every little movement in the apartment all while telling him that he needed to leave, that he needed to get out of there before “something” happened. What that “something” was, Desmond didn’t know, but he also didn’t care. The trip from the bedroom to the living room was a quick one, and as soon as Desmond laid eyes on Delsin, he felt his chest constrict for an entirely different reason.

To say that Delsin looked like hell would be an understatement. Blood, dirt, and combination of both all but coated the other, and the vest that Desmond frequently caught himself admiring had been nearly torn to shreds. Exhaustion rolled off of Delsin in waves that crashed against Desmond with a force he hadn’t been prepared for, they rolled him under their surface until he himself found it hard to break the surface and catch his breath, until only the sharp feeling of his fingernails  biting into his palms brought him back to reality. Delsin was aware of him--that much Desmond knew for certain--but in that moment, nothing but silence stretched between the two of them.

Had he been a smarter man, maybe he would have thought of something to say, something to break the silence between them with and act as an anchor for Aboth of them. Desmond had never considered himself a smart man, though, and maybe it was better that he couldn’t think of something to say. He’d probably just make it worse. Rather than speak, Desmond moved: as soon as his initial shock faded, Desmond stepped towards Delsin, the need to  _ protect _ Delsin thrumming in his veins and echoing with every rapid beat of his heart. He did not know who had hurt Delsin, but he doubted they were still alive--if they were, he’d make it a mission to kill them himself. That was a discussion for later, though, when words weren’t so likely to twist his tongue and choke him on good intentions.

Tentatively, Desmond reached out and placed his hands on Delsin’s shoulders. He felt the other tense beneath his gentle touch, but when he didn’t pull away, Desmond felt encouraged. The fabric of the ruined vest was rough beneath his hands and wet with a substance he didn’t care enough to think about for too long. Brows furrowed as Desmond shifted, moving so he could gently ease the tattered vest off of Delsin and toss it aside. Delsin did not fight him on the actions--he seemed too exhausted to do much beyond sit and quietly drink in the attention Desmond was giving him, actually. The sweatshirt was quick to follow the vest, as well as the flannel, until Delsin stood (with his back still before him--an act of trust?) before him bare chested.

It was only then that Desmond was able to see the true extent of what had happened. Pink scars disfigured Delsin’s body. They were already fading--some disappeared before his very eyes--but they told Desmond everything he needed to know. While Delsin was a master at hand to hand combat, there was only so much one could to do avoid getting shot. It was something Desmond knew from personal experience, though he knew better than to voice it right now. Whatever had happened today, it had been a mess. And while he wanted to ask Delsin about it, while he wanted to know  _ what _ had happened, he knew better than that. Now was not the time to get into specifics. Not when Delsin was still so quiet, while he was so raw under his touch.

Amber gaze softened not out of pity, but rather out of understanding as scarred fingers came up to gently trace against rapidly fading scars. Conduits had an amazing healing rate, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t feel their injuries. Not to mention the fact that most of the city had fallen into the bullshit propaganda that marked everyone who wasn’t “human” as bad meant that Delsin had to deal with attacks both from the DUP and the ignorant public. Again, it was something that Desmond couldn’t help but understand. With a sigh, Desmond shifted so he could wrap his arms around Delsin and bury his face against his back, the ache in his chest ever-present as he wished that he could do something  _ more _ for Delsin.

He could feel the tension in Delsin’s back. He could feel the way Delsin carried it in his shoulders, in the way that he held his breath and released it only when he knew it wouldn’t shake. Just as he was aware of the tension that Delsin held, he was aware of the fact that there was a wall between them. A sort of barrier that had been constructed through a lifetime of being the protector, of being the one who was always okay; Desmond carried the same one, and had often used it in an attempt to keep the people around him from worrying about him on the worst of the worst days. It was how he recognized it, and it was how he knew that fighting against it was pointless. It would either come down or it wouldn’t, and it was a choice that Delsin had to make.

Bit by bit, Desmond felt Delsin relax. He felt the tension that the other had carried slowly melt away, until his shoulders slumped and he no longer felt like a rock under Desmond’s touch. Carefully, Desmond loosened his grip, until he felt Delsin wiggle so they were facing each other, though that lasted only a heartbeat until Desmond yanked Delsin closer to him and tucked the other under his chin. He couldn’t protect Delsin from his life, and from what he had to do, but as long as Delsin was against his chest he knew he could keep him safe for at least a little while. It wasn’t long until he felt Delsin wrap his arms around him in return as he allowed himself to sink into the embrace, as more of the facade he so carefully worked at dropped.

“Didn’t think you’d still be here,” Delsin mumbled against Desmond’s chest, his face buried against the other as he fully allowed Desmond to anchor him. Truth be told, he had been banking on the fact that Desmond wouldn’t be there when he’d come home today--the guy only ever stayed for a day or so at a time, after all. “Figures this is the one time you stay, huh?” Quiet accusation hung in Delsin’s words, but he couldn’t help it; he had never been silent in his dislike for how Desmond tended to pop in and out of his life without so much as a warning.

“Mhnm, you have a nice bed. Figured I would slum it for as long as I could before I had to go back to sleeping on rocks,” Desmond muttered in an attempt at making a joke. It should have been easier than it was, considering his entire life seemed to be one big joke. Rather than make Delsin laugh, though, Desmond instead felt a quiet inquiry in the other, though he knew the question wasn’t going to be asked in this moment. He hadn’t told Delsin about how he was currently living, had he? Whoops.

“Nah. I’m not leaving tonight. Don’t have to,” Desmond said. As soon as the words left him, Desmond felt Delsin further relax, the fear that Desmond was going to up and leave at any moment tonight soothed. Quiet guilt ate at Desmond as he realized that he was a part of Delsin’s stress, as he realized that he was part of why Delsin had been so silent when he’d walked through the door, but it was not an emotion he had time to linger on. It was something he would obsess over later, when they weren’t wrapped in each other’s embraces, as he had so many times before. “Don’t want to, either,” Desmond muttered after a moment in a rare admission of vulnerability.

It was hard for him to vulnerable. It was hard for him to let his guard down, to let anyone get close to him. It had gotten even harder after Lucy. Yet, there was no denying that Delsin deserved that and so much more. There was no denying that Delsin deserved to see Desmond for whom--for what--he really was, even though the prospect absolutely  _ terrified  _ Desmond.

“Sappy,” Delsin muttered. For the first time since Delsin had gotten home though, Desmond could hear humor in the other’s voice. It was a small improvement, but it was still an improvement, and it brought a smile to Desmond’s face, and a chuckle rumbled through him as he quietly rubbed a hand up and down Delsin’s back. The pink scars he had felt moments ago were gone now, no physical remnants left to mark what had happened today. Desmond would not forget them, though; this was only one day in Delsin’s life, what happened in the others? What happened when he wasn’t here, when Delsin really did have to come home to an empty apartment, to a phone with no new messages from him on it?

“I thought it was romantic. What, it didn’t woo you?” Desmond joked. His attempt at humor was rewarded with a tired chuckle, and for a moment, Desmond couldn’t help but feel elated. It was a small thing, getting Delsin to laugh, but the fact he had been able to accomplish it meant more to Desmond than he was willing to voice. For once, he felt as though he was actually doing something  _ good _ , he felt as though he was actually able to help when shit hit the fan instead of being too far away to even know about what was going on.

Desmond shifted against Delsin, moving until he could step back away from the other, though he was quick to grab his hand before doing so, unwilling to completely break contact with the other. “Come on, I need a shower and you always manage to get the water hotter than I do,” Desmond said as he started to walk down the hall, intent on taking Delsin with him. Truth be told, he wasn’t the one who needed the shower, but there was no way in hell he was going to make Delsin be alone right now. Besides, shared showers were something he didn’t get a lot of, and he had to enjoy the ones he could.

“Yeah, right. You just want to leech off of my heat,” Delsin snorted, though he followed Desmond without hesitation, not wanting to pass up the opportunity to shower with the other, “You’re not as subtle as you seem to think you are, you know. It’s kinda cute. Endearing, almost.” A grin flashed across Delsin’s face as Desmond shot him a mock-glare over his shoulder, and he felt considerably lighter than he had when he’d first stepped through the door.

“Kinda cute? Excuse you,” Desmond scoffed laughter rich in his voice.  “‘I’m way beyond “kinda” cute. Thanks.” He paused at the bathroom door, his fingers still pointedly tangled with Delsin’s, and glanced over his shoulder at the other. The raw exhaustion that had previously clung to Delsin had eased, no longer a thick cloud that threatened to suffocate him, but rather a gentle mist that was only visible if Desmond squinted. Gentle laughter lingered in Delsin’s smile, and warmth once again lingered in Delsin’s gaze until it wrapped around Desmond like a comforting embrace. Affection twisted itself in Desmond’s chest as he studied the other, and before he could help himself, he yanked Delsin into a kiss.

Immediately, Desmond felt Delsin’s arms wrap around him, pulling him tighter against the other’s chest--as if he needed the encouragement. With a soft noise of amusement, Desmond splayed his free hand against Delsin’s bare chest, before he slid it up so he could properly tangle his fingers in Delsin’s hair. Delsin’s lips were chapped, and Desmond was sure his weren’t much better, but it didn’t matter: all that mattered was the fact that, for now, they were together.

With a sigh, Desmond pulled back, though his lips still brushed against Delsin’s when he spoke.

“Mhn. C’mon. After we shower, we’re gonna be doing a whole lot more of that,” Desmond murmured with a grin, excitement alight in his gaze as he took a moment to playfully wink at Delsin. It was cheesy and absolutely ridiculous to wink like that he knew, but he couldn’t help himself. “Last one in has to wash the sheets.”

The words had barely left Desmond’s mouth before he was bolting through the bathroom door, hurrying to take off his clothes, fully aware of the fact that Delsin had the advantage on him both in terms of speed and the fact that he was already partially stripped.

There would be a lot of nights where this wouldn’t happen. Nights when they wouldn’t have each other to lean on, when they would be painfully aware of each other’s absence and each breath would slam against their ribs like a sledgehammer. Tonight was not one of those nights, though--for now, they were happy, the sound of their laughter quick to rise above the sputter of the shower as it attempted to heat up--and sometimes that was all that mattered.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> noizisms.tumblr.com 
> 
> thanks for reading!! :)


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